


The Fountain of Youth

by Evil_Keshi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Royalty, First Kiss, Legends, M/M, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7055425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Keshi/pseuds/Evil_Keshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fountain of Youth and its healing waters were a legend, nothing more, a quest from which no one had ever returned from man's memory. But when a mysterious illness takes hold of Bucky's mother, the prince knows what he has to do, no matter the price to pay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fountain of Youth

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone ! Would you believe me if I said I worked on this story on and off for two years ? Yes, two years, and I'm finally posting it today... The story is inspired by the legend of the fountain of youth and crossed with a Celtic myth I read when I was very young and can't remember the name of, sadly. I hope you will enjoy the story ;)

  


Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a young prince. Murmurs came and went in the castle, carrying the breeze of hushed whispers about him and his male beauty, all blue eyes screaming trouble and dark hair often a mess, to his mother's utmost misery.

His name was James.

James liked his nickname Bucky better though, but no one really called him that way - it didn't fit a prince, they said. However, Bucky had never had much respect for the etiquette so he kept telling his mother to call him Bucky every time she opened her mouth with his birth name already formed on her lips - red and plump like his own.

People loved Bucky, either for he was a handsome fellow (and he was not ashamed to say so himself, he was a realist), either because in spite of his adventurous and sometimes rebellious behaviour, the prince was just that: royalty with responsibilities he was aware of, always listening to complaints alongside his father in the throne room when it was the day of the week when people, peasants and noblemen alike, could voice out their problems to their king.

King George would listen, so would Bucky, and sometimes he even spoke up and brought a new, younger and fresher opinion to the matter at hand. Over the years, he had come to display a set of impressive diplomatic skills, which was a real surprise for all and firstly for himself.

However, his best skills weren't to be used in a throne room but on the battlefield: give him a dagger, a sword or a bow, or hell, reduce him to his fists only, and he would fight for his life and his friends' or for the peace of his country and his people. He was brave, _too brave_ , some murmured, but they were still glad and relieved to know they could count on their prince to defend their houses, shall the need arise. Bucky was a man of action.

Thus, when a mysterious illness took hold of his mother and refused to let go of her in spite of the best healers' potions and cataplasms, the prince knew he had to do something.

  


  


His mother would have laughed, had she been able to, when Bucky secluded himself in the castle library and read, book after book after medicine treaties and old manuscripts that were half-eaten by bugs and nearly undecipherable. Bucky had never been one to read much, always found on his horse and galloping in the gardens - where he perfectly knew he wasn't allowed to - rather than sitting inside and listening to his preceptors.

He was reading now, brushing off his aversion for the books in his desperate search for a way to heal his mother that maybe the healers had not thought of yet. He found none though, and the more he tried to come up with a solution, the more he felt the life of his mother slip through his fingers.

"How much longer does she have?" he asked desperately Bruce one evening, Bruce who looked as exhausted after sleepless nights by the queen's side as Bucky after the long nights he spent reading.

For a second, the healer seemed to hesitate between the raw truth and soothing the Prince's worries but he eventually chose to be honest and whispered sadly:

"If this goes on like this, one week, two at most. I'm sorry Your Highness, I'm trying, I swear to you, but nothing seems to work. I don't know what else to do."

The words cut like a knife in Bucky's heart and he silently walked past Bruce to enter his mother's bedroom and sit by her bed, his eyes never leaving her face and taking in the pale colour of her lips once so red.

Bruce's voice reached his ears feebly as the prince only distractedly listened to him, focusing on his mother's breathing instead, when the healer's words suddenly registered in his mind.

"What did you say?" he asked, standing up to cross the room and grab Bruce's shoulders, shaking him lightly.

"Uh? I... Nothing, just thinking out loud. People talk about magical remedies, old legends... I told you that I don't know what to do for your mother anymore, so... I just wish that one legend was true."

"What legend?" Bucky pressed. "Bruce, which one?!"

"The Fountain of Youth!" the man squeaked out when the prince unconsciously dug his fingers into Bruce's left shoulder deeper and a bit too painfully. "They say its water gives eternal life and heals sick people but..."

Bruce went silent when he noticed the spark in the prince's eyes, telltale flicker of bad ideas and useless hopes.

"Don't even think about it," he said sharply, momentarily forgetting who he was talking to out of worry. "That is a quest people don't come back from, no one has ever found that fountain!"

"Maybe no one tried hard enough," Bucky snapped back before storming out of the bedroom, making his way to his father's study.

  


  


Of course, King George said no. He would not allow his only son and heir to the throne to go on a quest from which none had ever returned from man's memory. The legend of the Fountain of Youth was well known, mostly among the inner circles of scholars, but the king knew enough to fear for his son's safety.

"But, father..." Bucky immediately protested, crestfallen at the king's decision that downright condemned his mother. "If I don't..."

"I have made my choice, James," his father told him severely. "You wanted my blessing and I shall not give it to you, there's nothing left to discuss."

"But she will die!" Bucky all but screamed, balling his fists in his refusal to back down. "How can you do that to her?! To me?"

In a matter of seconds, the king was in Bucky's space, breathing irregular and eyes ablaze with the flames of despair that the prince recognised as the reflection of his own. The monarch's stern facade collapsed for a short instant at the prospect off his loss and his pain suddenly plastered itself all over his face as he snarled:

"Don't act like I easily accept her fate!"

The young man only glared at his father but couldn't help looking down after a second, not able to stand watching refusal in these eyes any longer.

"Bucky..." the king suddenly said, his voice oddly softening around the childish nickname that was an attempt at soothing and persuading his son to stay. "I will maybe lose your mother. Don't make me lose you too."

The prince remained silent, feeling like his heart had been grabbed by a cold hand that was squeezing it tightly. He... understood. The grief of his father would be great and painful enough, he didn't want the potential death of his only son to add to it. And yet... Bucky could not allow himself to stay there uselessly while his mother sunk deeper and deeper in the eternal rest.

"As you wish, father," he whispered quietly as he left the king's study, noticing with a pang in his heart that his father suddenly looked old, older than he actually was, his face wrinkled with worry that had not been there before.

He closed the door behind himself and took a deep and calming breath, before he made his way to the stairs that went further inside the castle; only, instead of climbing them up to return to his chambers for the night, Bucky went down, down, down, to the maids' quarters and the service doors, escaping into the night.

The next morning, Stan, the old stable boy, nearly had a stroke when he found out that someone had stolen Winter, the young prince's favourite horse. He was so fired.

  


  


Every time he'd heard the legend, thus meaning the rare times he'd deigned to listen to his preceptor as a kid, Bucky had been told that the Fountain of Youth would be found by kind-hearted people only, those with a pure and virtuous soul. The prince didn't exactly match that description, to be honest: he was a soldier, one who had fought alongside his father several times to protect his country. He had killed men who, while they had been his enemies, were still humans with families and friends who had mourned them; he might not have taken any pleasure from their death, yet that did not make him a good man, worthy of being allowed anywhere near the fountain.

Which did not mean he would not try his hardest to find it and save his mother. He owed her as much, after all she had done for him - loved him and cherished him with all her heart, being there for him even when he caused more trouble than not inside the castle.

Bucky headed northwards, for rumour travelled that the Fountain stood in the Always-Green Woods nearby the northern frontier; Winter was light on his feet and fast, going at a steady-paced gallop that ate miles and miles without trouble. Bucky didn't want to push his horse though so he took frequent breaks, both for himself and his mount so that they could eat and rest; they sometimes stopped on the road, seeking shelter from the occasional rain under the trees, or in an actual inn if they got lucky and found a village on their way. Winter liked these stops better, for stable boys would bring him hay and he would sleep on fresh stray - and the prince easily admitted that he preferred sleeping in a real bed as well rather than on the hard and cold ground by the side of the road or between a tree's roots.

Luck seemed to be on his side during his journey: people so far in the north seldom recognised him and he thus avoided questions that he would not have wanted to answer and most importantly, he could travel quickly.

So quickly in fact, that four days after his departure - and he had not wanted to think of what might have happened in the castle since then - Bucky saw the colour of the trees change, from soft yellows and browns to tender greens. The Always-Green Woods lived up to their name: no one had ever witnessed one single leaf fall off those trees, not even in the coldest winter, and it had not taken long for the people living in the area to conclude that the Fountain of Youth protected these woods from time damage.

Bucky was smiling like a fool when he entered the Always-Green Woods, relief already flooding his heart at the thought that he would soon find the Fountain and heal his mother. He was so enthralled by this prospect that he did not notice a man approaching and he jumped on his saddle, earning an offended whine from Winter, when a voice exclaimed next to him:

"Hey, you! Wait!"

Startled, the prince pulled on the reins and stopped his horse, looking around until he spotted a tall man walking out from the trees' shadows, a falcon perched on his right shoulder that whipped its head left and right quickly, piercing eyes taking in its surroundings until they noticed Bucky and Winter and stayed focused on them.

"Sorry for startling you," the man said not unkindly, although his features were set in a serious expression that told Bucky he was there for business. "I'm Sam Wilson, keeper of these woods. You're here for the Fountain?"

The prince perked up at that and was not even ashamed when he asked, excitement clearly audible in his voice in an almost childish way:

"So it's true? It does exist! Where is it, can you tell me? Please?"

"Hey, hey, calm down," Sam said, brows furrowing a little. "What's wrong with you all, coming here looking for the Fountain? Are you crazy? Don't you know what happens to those who try to find it? They..."

"Die, I know," Bucky said calmly. "You seem to know that for a fact... How? Have you ever seen the Fountain?"

Sam shook his head and the bird on his shoulder shifted a little, never adverting its eyes from the rider and his horse as it tried not to lose its balance. Bucky suddenly felt like a prey.

"I've buried them myself," Sam whispered sadly. "I always try to warn them, no one ever listens to me... I usually find them the next morning, cold as stone. Some of them go crazy, they say there's a voice inside their head, talking to them until they can't stand it anymore. I just thought I'd try with you, that maybe you'd listen and leave before evil falls upon you too... Something tells me you won't, though."

"No, I won't," Bucky answered, his tone confident, before his voice grew somewhat desperate. "I have to find it. I can't walk away now, I don't care if it is dangerous. Please, tell me where to go to reach the Fountain of Youth."

Sam shrugged.

"No idea. I've always kept far away from it, that's why I'm still alive: people die when they look for the Fountain, which I don't. I don't even know if it's really a fountain."

"What? What do you mean?" Bucky asked.

Had he been misled? Was it not a fountain he was supposed to search?

"Well..." Sam started. "No one's ever seen it, you know, so no one is sure of what it looks like. Some people say it's a fountain or perhaps a spring, some other say it's some sort of hermit with incredible healing powers... If it exists at all, you know? Either way, you shouldn't keep going."

"I have to."

Bucky didn't hesitate. His eyes stared at the man without blinking, his determination showing in his blue irises; he would find that fountain or whatever it actually was, and bring back a flask of its water to his mother - or he would die trying but for sure, he would not give up now. Oddly, Sam seemed to read his mind: the young man shook his head lightly, as though disappointed but not surprised.

"Good luck, then," he said with a resigned smile. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

  


  


The woods were quiet but for the soft sound of Winter's hooves on the green grass and the occasional bird chirping. The sky was growing darker by the second and Bucky still had not found anything close to a fountain or a spring, even though he had arrived in the deepest part of the woods already. Despair was clutching at his heart, heavy with the prospect of failing on his quest, guilty at the thought that maybe his father was right and that nothing could save his mother.

_Bucky..._

The prince flinched in surprise when he heard a soft, disembodied voice and he pulled on his horse's reins, looking around and trying to make out a silhouette through the darkness that had fallen on the forest. Nothing. Had he... imagined the sound?

_Bucky... Come, Bucky. Come to me._

"Hello?" the young man said hesitantly, blue eyes searching through the shadows. Under him, Winter neighed gently as he grew impatient and stamped his feet, shaking his head and whipping Bucky's face with his mane. "Yeah, yeah, wait a minute, buddy."

He loosened his grip on the reins but kept Winter still, holding his breath himself as he tried to listen for any noise that could betray the presence of another being: footsteps, a twig cracking under someone's boot... But he heard nothing. Even the wind seemed to have died down.

_Bucky, come on! What are you waiting for ?_

The voice... sounded amused. Clear, masculine and gentle, although pressing, and Bucky didn't realise he had dismounted until he found himself on a half-hidden path through the trees, his fist closed around Winter's reins and letting himself be guided by the voice.

_Yes... Come to me, Bucky._

He vaguely remembered Sam Wilson and his warning, the way the light had briefly vanished from his eyes when he'd told the prince about the poor fellows who had gone crazy hearing voices in their heads. Bucky unconsciously gripped the hilt of the dagger he kept in his belt.

 _I won't hurt you, I promise_ , said the voice soothingly as though it had read his mind, and Bucky felt himself relax slightly, for a reason that he was not sure to understand. This could be a trap. It probably was, if Sam's words were anything to go by, yet he found himself uncontrollably drawn forward, his curiosity toward the mysterious voice that kept calling his name getting the best of him.

Once on the path, it did not take him long to reach a clearing of an almost perfect circular shape, and Winter suddenly pulled on the reins to start grazing; Bucky was about to decide that he might as well settle down for a little while and eat something before it was too dark to see inside his saddlebags, when he caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye.

Slowly, carefully, the young man wrapped his hand around the grip of his dagger and turned around, ready both to attack or defend himself, but he froze as soon as he saw the person facing him.

"Hello, Bucky," the stranger said with a smile.

That voice... The same one he had heard before, but now he could match a face with it; Bucky first noticed the hair, a golden blond shining dimly in the growing obscurity of the night, carrying the scent of flowers, clear blue eyes staring at him with kindness and... Was that mischief glinting in those pupils? The prince wasn't certain but he knew one thing for sure: the man in front of him was... out of time. Beyond that bright smile he was still flashing him, Bucky could almost see innocence and purity emanate from him; he looked so incredibly young and yet, great wisdom shone beside the playfulness of his cerulean eyes, sign of a long, long life that had not left the tiniest mark on the man's features.

"Who are you?" Bucky eventually managed to utter, not once adverting his eyes from the gorgeous creature who seemed to have appeared in front of him from nowhere.

The smile widened even more - how could the man grin so wide without splitting his face in half, Bucky wondered? - and the blond answered:

"I have been given many names... The last one was Steven. People call me Youth more often, though."

"Youth?" Bucky repeated, dumbfounded. "As in..."

"The Fountain of Youth, yes," Youth - Steven? - spoke again. "I know I don't look much like one but I am the one you were looking for, Bucky."

"You knew?"

"Of course. I can feel when someone seeks me."

"What about the others?" Bucky asked with a frown, imperceptibly tightening his hold on his dagger. "Those other men who came for you?"

Steven blinked before he looked down, the smile slowly fading away. During what had to be a short second but strangely seemed to last a small eternity, Bucky hated himself for having asked and killed Youth's joyfulness.

"I did not do them any wrong, if this is what you're wondering," the blond eventually sighed, biting his lower lip in a distracting way. "But these men... They were not part of the few chosen ones who have the ability to find me; they were not good men. Yes, they were searching for the Fountain like you. But they wanted it for themselves, which doesn't seem to be your case, or you would not have found me. So?"

"So what?" Bucky asked, feeling a bit stupid as he tore his gaze away from Steven's lips to actually focus on his words.

"Why? Why did you come all the way here if not for your personal benefit?"

"I..."

Bucky went silent, suddenly unsure of himself. What if Youth laughed at him and refused to help save his mother? He would have travelled here in vain and his last chance to heal his mother would slip through his fingers. But Steven... He seemed kind. He would listen, right?

"Tell me," Youth urged him softly as he took a step forward, "what troubles you?"

"My mother," Bucky blurted out as he drowned himself into the blue of Steven's eyes. "She is... dying. Or she was when I left the castle, I don't know what might have happened to her since then. I wanted... I wanted to find the Fountain of Youth and bring back some of its waters to my mother, so that I could heal her, but..."

The Prince grew quiet, staring at the young man in front of him. A man, not a fountain nor a spring. How then, how was he supposed to take those precious drops of water? Should he bring Steven back with him? No, Bucky didn't think that Youth would leave those woods willingly.

"That is right," Steve said out of the blue, "I shall not come with you."

"Can you... Can you read my mind?" the Prince asked, baffled and just a little afraid that Steven had seen how attractive he thought the young man was.

Youth's smile widened and he laughed, warming up the prince to his very core; this pure and merry laughter reminded him of silver bells ringing softly in the breeze, during a warm and sunny afternoon.

"I cannot read your mind, Bucky," Steven replied and raised his hands to brush his knuckles over each of the prince's cheeks, "but you are like an open book to me. I can see on your face that you are afraid of losing your mother... Fear not, my Prince, my powers are not limited to the place I live in."

"So you will heal her?" Bucky asked, feeling hope blooming in his heart at the gentle smile Steven flashed him.

"I will," Youth confirmed with a firm nod. "It has been many centuries since someone last came to me and you did today, because of the purity of your goal. I will help your mother."

Slowly, the man with the golden hair raised his hands, palms up at the level of his chest, and two tiny flames seemed to shine above his skin, soft halo that lit up his every feature. The small fires rose and their sparks tangled, and it rose again until it brushed Steven's soft-looking hair. Then, it suddenly vanished and Youth tumbled, falling right into Bucky's arms.

"It is done," he whispered against the prince's coat. "I'm sorry, it has been a while since I summoned my abilities for the last time and... I'm not used to the energy loss anymore."

Even though he apologised, Bucky noticed that Steven showed no sign of being embarrassed by their closeness, nor did he seem eager to shy away from him. Good, he thought: the young man was warm against him and he wanted to slip his fingers through that golden mane, to know if it felt as soft as it looked, and...

"Uh," Bucky coughed as he blushed, "is that it? I mean... You healed her?"

"That I did," Steven said, finally taking a step back. "Your mother will live."

Overwhelmed with joy, the prince collapsed at Youth's feet and hugged his calves, resting his head against his knees.

"Thank you," he chocked, voice heavy and brittle with emotion. "Thank you, Steven, Youth... You have no idea how much this means to me. What can I do to repay your kindness?"

Steven chuckled and helped Bucky back on his feet by lacing their fingers together and pulling on the prince's arms. Even once he ended up standing tall again, Youth didn't let go of Bucky's hands.

"Kindness would not be kindness anymore if kind people expected something in return of their gift," Steven explained. "You owe me nothing, Bucky. Although... It is late and you cannot travel by night. If you insist on giving me something as proof of your gratitude, I would very much enjoy your company for a while. I have not talked with anyone in a long time, so maybe... You could do that for me? Tell me stories of your people, your family or perhaps your heroic deeds?"

Even as Bucky nodded, eager to stay and share a longer time in company of the gorgeous man, Steven, still holding one of his hands in his own (so soft yet so strong), led him to the middle of the clearing, where they sat among the flowers. Bucky couldn't take his eyes off of Steven, not even as he started to tell him stories of his realm, how he had raised havoc in the castle when he was a toddler running everywhere, how he still did that nowadays and - and Steven laughed and laughed, and it was the purest sound Bucky had ever heard, one that pierced through his heart in delicious ways.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, holding onto Steven's hand as he narrated stories about his childhood or the first time he had tried to ride Winter and had ended up in the mud with the shape of a hoof clearly visible on his buttocks. Even though the hours ticked away, Bucky didn't feel the need to eat or drink, probably because Youth's aura was surrounding him in this bubble out of time.

Soon, Steven became Steve and he too told the prince his own stories: how he usually lived in a palace lost among the clouds and only came down here when he sensed that a human was looking for him, how he felt alone most of the time, how he regretted the fate of those who tried to find him when all they wanted was their own immortality.

Soon, Bucky's fingertips were teasing the blond male's inner forearm in a soft caress that he was barely aware of tracing, but Steve was smiling and his own right hand was on Bucky's knee.

Soon, Bucky started to think that he wanted to remain here with Steve forever. It felt good and right, to sit with the young man in the clearing, to bask in the warmth of his skin against his... Until Steve whispered:

"Shouldn't you go back home, to your family and your people?"

Bucky's dream-like happiness suddenly vanished at the words and, miserable, he looked at the blond male... Who looked as sad as he felt himself.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked softly, praying to hear the answer he wanted to hear.

"No," Steve said as he shook his head, unaware that he had made Bucky's heart stop then start again, with a faster beat this time. "I wish I could keep you here with me but... I am not selfish, my Prince, and I know you are awaited somewhere else. It has been four days already."

Bucky's brows arched up in surprise. Four days ? This time he had spent with Steve had seemed to last hours only...

"I don't want to leave," he murmured as he squeezed Steve's hand in his. "I had given myself a mission, save my mother, and it is done. Now my only wish is to remain here with you, as long as you shall have me."

A smile started to grow on Steve's lips but the young man shook his head and a frown appeared on his beautiful face before he broke free of Bucky's grip and turned around.

"I cannot stay here for long," he explained, not daring to face the prince. "I need to return home, in the sky up above."

"Can I not come with you?" Bucky pleaded as he felt his hurt clench painfully at the prospect of losing Steve.

Youth looked at him with hesitation, biting his lips, and the prince was so distracted by this simple action that he almost missed the words that left Steve's mouth next.

"You could," he answered quietly, "but if you come with me, you will never be able to return on Earth. There is no coming back."

Bucky looked down in silence, feeling like his choice was made already: he felt... something for Steve, something that was stronger than his attachment to his kingdom. Fascination ? No... The blond man was mesmerising for sure but what he felt, deep inside of him, went beyond mere fascination and was pushing him forward and onto the path Steve would take. The prince briefly thought of his family and what they would deduce of his absence: that he had died on his quest or given his life in exchange for his mother's. But he had saved the queen, so at least his father would have her by his side to rule the kingdom. They would not be alone and with time, maybe they would even learn to be happy without him. And Winter, while he certainly couldn't travel with them, would be taken care of by Sam Wilson, the keeper.

The prince took Steve's hand in his.

"Lead the way," he simply said, with a smile that was returned in kind, although even brighter than his own.

  


  


Bucky expected many wonders from the land that belonged to Steve and truly, this realm didn't disappoint. Youth had mentioned that it stood above the clouds so the prince thought he would arrive in a white and fluffy land but he could not have been more mistaken: the place Steve took him to looked like any other land on Earth, where the clouds floated above their heads and not under their feet, but at the same time, it seemed quite different, mainly because in this faraway place, time didn't leave its mark anywhere. It was beautiful.

Green and golden fields spread as far as he could see and beyond, they went through a forest where the trees looked stronger and healthier than in any other place on Earth, even the Always-Green Woods. The colour of their leaves oscillated between a vibrant and intense green and a softer yellow while the smaller trees and the bushes bore juicy fruits that the bright sun had caressed with its rays. A calm wind carried the sound of birds chirping and the bubbling laughter-like noise of waterfalls in the distance.

The prince felt his heart clench at the sudden realisation that this place, this hidden corner of paradise, could not be truly enjoyed without a companion, one from which Steve had been deprived for many years. But now... Now, Bucky would not permit solitude to strike on Steve again.

Speaking of Youth, the young man was staring at the prince with an apparent calm that Bucky knew to interpret as internal trepidation and maybe slight panic, as the prince had yet to voice his opinion on Steve's realm.

He could have said many things but no word would have conveyed the amazement and utter peace he felt inside his chest, so instead of stammering words that would have betrayed the truth of his emotions, he slowly turned to the blond man and asked in a breath:

"Steve... May I kiss you?"

Youth seemed startled at that, then a shy smile curled up his plump lips.

"I... I desire nothing more," he whispered even as his cheeks turned rosy. "But, Bucky... I don't know how..."

"Come closer," the prince answered on the same low tone, slowly lifting his hands so that he could cup Steve's face delicately. "Closer. Closer..."

Their feet were almost touching when Bucky finally leaned down to press his lips to Steve's mouth. He heard the sharp, surprised intake of breath as the blond experienced for the first time the light weight of someone else's mouth on his own, he felt the shudder that ran along the man's whole body, filling him with warmth and joy at this simple but oh-so wonderful kiss.

The mixed eagerness and tentativeness in Steve's moves spoke better than a million words of his loneliness and his longing for affection that must have ensued but Bucky smiled in the kiss, as he realised that he had all eternity to show Steve everything he had missed during his long existence.

  


  


Time didn't pass in Steve's realm the way it did down in Bucky's. The prince couldn't tell how long it had been since he had found his blond lover in the Always-Green Woods but it didn't really matter. What mattered, right now and forever, lay on the bed by his side, his fair skin as bare as his under the soft linen sheets of their bedding.

Slowly, Bucky rose and left the bed, trying not to wake up his companion as he silently padded over to the open window of their bedroom. He sat on the edge of the windowsill and let the breeze caress his nakedness while the silk curtains floated in the air and played around him, the soft fabric brushing over his skin every so often. The sun had not risen above the line of the horizon yet but pinkish and orange spots marred the dark sky of the night, announcing the early morning at the same time as a few birds awoke and started to chirp merrily.

Bucky didn't think he would ever tire of watching the sun rise and shine its light on the green and gold of Steve's land - their land. Sometimes, he wondered if the sunrays here were the same as those in his realm, he wondered if his mother was looking up to the same light as he did.

Melancholy hit, sometimes, but regret? Never. How could he regret his decision to join Steve in his journey back to his realm, when he had _this_ ? This peace, this sight, this enjoyment of life, but most of all, when he had...

"Buck?" a quiet, sleepy voice called from within the bundle of sheets on the bed.

"By the window," the prince answered, a smile in his voice as he saw the bundle shift and a blond head poke through. "I tried not to make a noise... Did I wake you?"

"No," Steve told him before he got out of the bed, wrapped himself more tightly in the sheets and came to join Bucky near the window. "But your spot was growing cold... And so did I."

"Come here," the prince said, opening his arms wide to welcome his lover in his embrace.

Steve eagerly complied and nearly climbed onto his lover's lap as he searched more closeness; once he had found his perfect spot, he remained still, so much that Bucky believed his blond lover had fallen asleep again, until Steve asked:

"What were you thinking about? You looked so pensive, just seconds ago... And handsome, with the wind messing with your hair."

Bucky laughed as he threaded a hand through his half-long hair, briefly thinking of what his mother would have to say regarding this eccentric hairstyle. The prince bent his neck to drop a kiss on Steve's forehead, then he whispered in his ear:

"I was thinking about you. How right I was to go on this quest, how lucky I was to find you. And how much I love you."

As always when he said those words, Steve ducked his head shyly, unable to fully relish in the happiness that those words brought him, in fear of seeing it vanish in front of his eyes as if it had been but a dream.

"I love you," Bucky repeated, as always, eyes an intense shade of blue as he looked into Steve's heart and saw his astonishment. "I love you, I love you..."

"And I you," the blond male whispered, before he sealed their lips with a burning kiss.

  


  


Youth and his prince were living in harmony and happiness in their realm and they would have for a long time if one day, melancholy hadn't seized Bucky so forcefully that he felt the desire to see his family again.

"My love," he told Steve one morning, "I know you said to me that I would never return to Earth if I chose to come with you. But please, there must be a way I can see my people again? Even for a short instant? I need to see them, I..."

"I understand," the blond said softly. "I was wondering when you would finally express this need. I understand, Bucky, and there _is_ a way but I... I am not sure you will find what you seek."

"But I found you," the prince pointed out with a smile at the evocation of their first meeting. "Surely I will find my family as well."

"Bucky, you don't get it... It has been a long time since we met. Your family... Isn't there anymore."

The prince stared at his lover in silence, unable - unwilling - to understand the implications of these baneful words.

"H... How long?" he finally croaked.

"More than two hundred years, Bucky..." Steve whispered sadly, not daring to meet his lover's eyes that must have been filling with crystal-like pearls of salt. "I'm sorry, I should never have asked you to follow me here, I was selfish and..."

"No, no, please, stop!" Bucky exclaimed, taking the blond male's hands in his own. "Don't blame yourself for a choice I was the one to make. It's just... I wish I could have said goodbye."

The prince didn't say more but looked down and Steve knew he was fighting bitter tears of sadness.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "If... If you want to see your land again, I can show you the way. Maybe it will... help you mourn your loved ones."

Youth led his lover to the small haven of their shared land, where a rowing boat waited for them. There were no oars though, for there was no need of them: Steve explained that the wind would carry the boat and Bucky wouldn't have to move a finger. Bucky _could_ not move a finger, actually:

"Whatever happens, stay inside the boat," the blond begged. "It will keep you in the sky, above your land, and it will keep you safe. Please, head my warning: if you touch the ground, the many years you spent here will rush at you. You are two hundred years younger than you should be, my love. If you disembark, you shall die."

An intense kiss answered him: Bucky captured his lips and kissed him with passion, both desperate now that he had learned the fate of his family and grateful for the opportunity to mourn them in peace.

"I will return, Steve," he promised. "Give me one full day. By tonight's sunset, I shall be back and kiss you goodnight in our bed."

And so, the prince went on his way, leaving behind a worried lover who feared that Bucky's sorrow would be far too strong and powerful to let him remember his warning. But who was he to forbid Bucky this time for himself?

However, the prince had not forgotten his lover's words. He remained inside the boat even as it floated just under the thick layers of white clouds, allowing him to catch sight of his realm for the first time in more than two hundred years...

His heart stopped. He... He couldn't recognise a single thing. Where was his city with its castle, the gardens he had spent his childhood running around, the stables he used to sneak into during the night to feed Winter with sweets he definitely didn't need? Gone, they were all gone. The roads he had travelled on, by night or day, were larger than he remembered them, inns had disappeared, some forests had shrunk and other had grown where nothing grew before.

The only constant element in the scenery was a spot of green: those were the Always-Green Woods, he realised, and they only owed their survival to Steve's powers. Other than the woods, nothing had remained the same, not the thick walls of the castle, not the fragile bones of his people.

Reality hit him hard: his parents were gone. Bruce, the kind healer who had unconsciously led him to Steve, was dead as well. No one remained.

If Bucky had had any doubts regarding his desire to stay with Steve forever, this would have made the choice easier: what else would he do, now that his lover was all he had left? He had never had second thoughts about his decision though and now that he had seen through his own eyes the emptiness of what he knew before, he wanted to go back to Steve, to hold him in his arms and kiss his blond head, keep and protect the one who was his future, while everything else made beautiful memories - but no more than that, now.

Bucky would have travelled back to Steve instantly, if a shadow behind him had not made him turn around and freeze.

Steve - Youth - had many enemies: Sickness and Amnesia, but most of all, Death. Death hated Youth deeper than he could hate anyone, for Steve was the eternity itself, the fail of death. He wished nothing more than to destroy the blond man but how did one destroy immortality?

Death had the answer right under his nose, floating in a tiny boat. For so many years, Youth had had no one, neither a friend nor a parent, but now... Now, Steve had everything, a fragile everything that was gathered inside the body of a man, so easily defeated. How would he deal with the loss of his loved one, a loss that would last forever, for as long as Youth himself would live? The dark shadow smiled as it roughly threw the unsuspecting man overboard.

  


  


Bucky's breath hitched when he felt a cold hand shove him, so hard that he was thrown out of the boat by an unknown force, and next thing he realised, he was falling with a cry, his hands reaching out to grasp the side of the boat, anything that could save him.

He was still falling.

 _Steve_ , he thought, _I'm so sorry_. Sorry he would not hold onto his promise, sorry he would leave him on his own, sorry Steve would have to keep on alone, in the lonely and sad way he had before.

"Steeeeeve!" he shouted in despair, and please, _please_ , someone let the blond know that it wasn't his fault, that Bucky had agreed to step in this boat, please someone made him understand that he was not to blame for anything...

The prince hit the ground with a crack and pain shot through his whole body. Tender grass, under his cheeks, and the earthy scent of the soil filling his nostrils told him that he had crashed in a forest; for a second, he prayed to have landed in the Always-Green Woods, so that Steve's powers would still protect him, but...

These woods were too dark to be the beautiful place where he had first met Steve, and the pain increasing in his bones told him that the end was near. Bucky gritted his teeth as his body got rid of two hundred years of youth and accepted to grow old: his hands turned bony, a taste of ashes invaded his mouth, his sight decreased and he thought that a veil had fallen over his eyes, fading the colours of the world.

He shut his eyes, refusing to see a world in black and white. No. He needed to remember... He... he had to remember the colours of the trees up in Steve's land, the green of the forests and the gold of the fields before harvest, the blue of the sky and the fair tones of Steve's skin, his sunny eyes, his wonderful smile and the colour of his cheeks when he blushed, akin to the petals of a rose.

"Steve..."

  


  


Bucky didn't reappear by sunset. Steve waited on the shore, he waited and waited, until he went to bed and waited again, waited for his goodnight kiss. He waited but when the sun rose again on the next morning and illuminated the empty spot by his side, he stood up and ran out of his realm, to Earth and to Bucky.

He had fallen, that was the only possible explanation: never would Bucky have abandoned him up there, alone... But imagining that his lover had fallen then met his horrible fate...

With a cry, Steve descended into the Always-Green Woods, where he had not stepped since the day he had met Bucky, for no one had ever sought him anymore: maybe the fate of the beloved prince had dissuaded other valorous knights from going on the same quest...

When it became clear that Bucky hadn't landed into the Always-Green Woods, Steve felt like he was torn apart, his heart shattering to pieces: his prince couldn't have survived this fall on Earth. Steve would find nothing but a small mound of ashes - if he found his lover at all.

Youth started his own quest, just like the prince had, so many years ago. But where Bucky had been looking for hope and healing, Steve was only searching for his dead love. He searched for a long, long time, but he never found anything and every time he asked someone whether they had seen a man fall from the sky, he was laughed at. Many times, Steve had to swallow the hurt and the tears and keep going, but he was... wasting away. Gone, his laughter, his smile and the joy that once filled his eyes. Youth was dying, consumed by his sorrow.

One night that he was crying on his fate, for Bucky who had been struck by a lonely death in a place Steve could never reach, Wind took pity on him. Wind had seen everything, being the one to lead the prince's boat at the time, but it hadn't dared tell Youth, in fear to break him completely. But now, Wind could see that Steve wouldn't rest before he found his lover, so its soft breeze whispered in the blond man's ear what he wanted to know: the reason of his prince's fall and the place of his last sleep.

Steve took off, travelling faster than ever, until he arrived in a quiet forest, where no bird seemed to sing, as if afraid to bother the dead. And then, he saw them. The empty clothes that Bucky had been clad into the morning of his departure, when he had kissed him goodbye - a final, eternal goodbye. Underneath the layers of useless clothing, Steve found the ashes of his lover, telltale sign of the sunset of his life.

On his kneels, next to the ashes, Youth cried over his broken love and broken heart, mourning the long life they could have lived together if a cruel hand hadn't twisted Bucky's fate. Steve stayed there for a long, long time, remembering everything he loved about his prince, everything he had lost. He remained there, hunched over his lover, for so long that even for Youth, this seemed like a long time.

When Wind shyly suggested that he returned to his realm, Steve refused: he belonged to wherever Bucky was and if this dark forest was destined to be his tomb, then so would it be for Steve. Wind understood then, that everything that made Youth had died alongside Bucky; but _Steve_... Steve remained, a broken shell and the sad ghost of a happier past. Wind, feeling partly responsible for what had happened to the lovers, decided to protect what was left of them: Wind turned Steve into a weeping willow, with long and sad branches hanging low to form a curtain of leaves around them, a frail barrier against the world, but one that would shield his lover from direct sight and protect his lost prince forever.

  


  


If you walk into a forest one day and find a weeping willow, sadly hunched, gently step through the low branches hanging like tears rolling down a face, and search among the roots. Maybe you will see them, the ashes of the fallen one. Then, take a second to remember them, the lovers, the prince who followed his heart into a land above our heads and the forever young one, who could never have loved a life in which his prince didn't exist.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading so far, I hope you liked this story ! Feel free to leave your thoughts and opinions in the comments, I would love to know what you thought of this (make me feel like I didn't spend two years on this for nothing ^^) I'll see you soon on another story ;)


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